


Deepest Blues are Black

by MoodyAquarius



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 10x22 alternate ending, 10x22 coda, Alternate Ending, Angst, CMON WRITERS, Destiel - Freeform, Emotional Trauma, Episode 10x22, First Kiss, Fluff, Graphic Violence, I am very hurt, I am very upset, I needed this to be the ending, M/M, STOP HURTING US, Spoilers, Supernatural - Freeform, That episode was very upsetting, The Prisoner - Freeform, The Prisoner 10x22, Violence, Violent Dean, because pain, canonical, canonical violence, final scene, love declaration, moc!dean, reverse crypt scene, spn 10x22, spn season 10, surprise Destiel, this turned into gross fluff but that is really what I need right now, veryhurt!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 12:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3936589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoodyAquarius/pseuds/MoodyAquarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate ending, coda, to episode 10x22 The Prisoner, because that ending was SO PAINFUL. I can't help but feel like the writers botched yet another perfect opportunity for Cas to declare his love for Dean, I mean COME ON. Sooo I wrote it how I want it. I'm in a lot of pain. I hope this helps anyone else in a lot of pain right now. Emotionally traumatized. </p><p>We need this right now, everything hurts. <br/>Enjoy! I love you guys, hang in there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deepest Blues are Black

**Author's Note:**

> Mark this as the beginning of the #DestielApocalypse

Thick metallic liquid seeped onto Castiel’s tastebuds, giving his heart a quick jump to alert his senses rapidly of the onslaught of violent attacks against it. Heavily lidded eyes peered up to meet the immediate threat of smooth, shimmering silver aimed directly at his chest. Automatically, his hand clamped down like a vice on the attacker’s wrist, gripping hard as he could manage and wheeling his eyes up to meet blackened, muddied green. He moved his throat to try a plea but all that came out was a spurt of thick, hot blood that rolled down his cheek. 

The grip on his tie tightened, he choked out, “Dean, please-”

Before he could try anything else he watched Dean cock his arm up and back, readying the fatal downward plunge. Cas couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the pair of green eyes he’d grown to love so much, even as death confronted him. He flinched naturally as he heard the blade meet something hard and solid, assuming it was his own chest, he spoke, loud and clear:

“I love you, Dean.” 

It took his mind a moment to catch up to the fact that the blade had not actually pierced his own chest but rather the hard-cover of a book immediately at his side. A gust of air escaped his intact lungs and he felt every nerve in his body jolt and release in relief. The relief that washed over him was soon interrupted by the hard glare inhabiting the blood-stained face of Dean Winchester who was still crouched in his lethal position above him. 

“What did you say?” His voice ripped out of him like thunder and rumbled into Cas’ hips, resonating like the hard and raw rumble of an earthquake. Cas reeled, mind struggling to focus on anything besides the instinctual ecstasy that followed the avoidance of death. Endorphins flooded his body but were shook as Dean tugged the collar of his shirt in a quick snap, full-on yelling down into his face, “What did you say?” 

Cas fumbled, “I don’t-- did I say something?” 

“Yes!” Cas swore he saw tears in the edges of Dean’s eyes. Hot, furious tears that rolled quickly out of his burning eyes, leaving a clean flesh-toned line down his cheek, interrupting the blood splatter and mess. Cas sucked in a breath, trying to get his brain to recall the previous traumatic seconds that had transpired between them, his hand still gripped hard on Dean’s rough wrist, not fully sure if he was safe or not. 

“I said..” He quivered, gulping and closing his eyes, “I said I love you.” He felt warmth pool in his eyes as well, his brain on fire with a flurry of emotions, confusing and contradicting emotions pouring out into his frazzled nervous system. He let go of his grip on Dean, purely because of exhaustion, a shaky gust of air fluttering out of him. 

His release was immediately met by a crushing, warm weight against his bloodied lips. He couldn’t register what was happening, but as he felt a hard press of weight into his hips his mind kicked into the present. Rough, blood-stained fingers were tugging at his shirt collar while even rougher, desperate lips pushed for acceptance. Cas tentatively kissed back, reaching up weakly to pet at the smooth skin of Dean’s neck, running his fingers along the base of his hairline, mouth pliant and eager yet confused. Once he returned Dean’s kiss he felt something incredibly warm and comforting push past the boundary of his lips, a tongue he realized, Dean’s tongue, exploring and tasting his mouth with an urgency and need that surpassed any emotion the hunter had ever displayed before. Cas felt hands scoop his head up off the hardness of the floor, he felt himself leaning up into Dean’s suddenly soft touch, eager to receive anything loving or gentle from him. The kiss delved, leaving Cas completely spinning and breathless. Dean pulled back for air, gasping, eyes ravenous and wild, staring into Cas’ with fiery intensity. 

Suddenly, all of Dean’s weight was gone and Cas felt empty, lying spent on the ground, bleeding and shaking. He listened to the heavy sound of his boots hitting the hard floor; combating with the shaking, crazed rhythm of his breathing. He peered up through swelling eyes, seeing a skewed image of Dean- his blood-splattered, sun-worn face, twisted in emotion with tears running hot and silent down his skin, eyes unreadable and dark. With a small twitch of his lips, the ferocious murderer disappeared behind the wall separating the study from the main hallway and the sound of his boots hitting the ground got small and far away. 

Cas let his head sink back down on the floor, eyes staring aimlessly up at the blank ceiling. His nostrils filled with the putrid smell of gasoline, but he didn’t have the energy to move away. He took a small side-glance at the image next to him- the blade violently stuffed into the hard surface of the book that was almost his chest. He fought hard to stop looking at it, but when he couldn’t a surge of desperate emotion poured out of him. He began to sob. His entire body shook with the force of his shock, fear, betrayal, anguish, sadness, heart-ache and unrelenting love.

The force of his fierce and unstoppable love for Dean ripped through him, churning his insides like coals in fire, raking him across a bed of razors and lemon juice, throwing him into a meat grinder repeatedly- and he couldn’t stop his heart from pounding, begging, wishing for Dean’s touch, Dean’s gaze, Dean’s eyes, Dean’s soul. His grace pounded violently inside him, rapidly cooling and healing the gaping wounds his vessel had suffered, hurriedly getting rid of any evidence Dean had ever laid a finger on him. And he sobbed- unwilling to let go of a single second of it. 

Any reasonable person- or angel for that matter- would have gotten the hell away from the Winchesters that moment. Would have ran far away and never communicated with either of them ever again. Anyone else would have some sense of self-preservation, but Castiel wasn’t exactly reasonable. 

“Cas?!” Sam’s voice hit his ears like a heavenly lyre. He met the younger Winchester’s frantic eyes. “Cas, what happened?!” 

“Dean.” He almost shrugged, he was that casual. Tears betrayed him, still escaping his eyes and streaking the flow of dark, fresh blood. Sam dropped to his knees at Cas’ side, eyes rapidly glancing at the angel blade beside him. 

“Dean.. He.. He did this-t-to you?” Sam’s eyes filled with dread. Cas nodded a small, weak nod. Sam wasted no time, scooping Cas up carefully in his arms and trying to decide where to take him, what to do, what would even help. 

“Sam I’m f-fi” He sputtered up a mouthful of blood, wincing. Sam gaped. 

“Cas, oh my god-” He set him down on the nearest sofa, trying to assess the severity of the damage. Cas held up a weak hand, shaking him away, muttering, 

“I’m healing myself r-right now, I’m fine.” He crumpled inwardly, willing his grace to heal faster, not really for himself but for Sam’s sake. He closed his eyes, gripping the fabric of his coat, still in shock that he was in fact alive. 

“I… I can’t believe- Cas, this.. this is..” Sam stumbled, feeling his knees almost wobble. If Dean were so far gone to do this to Cas… “This is.. so..” Sam looked around in near-panic, “Cas, where is he?” Cas gestured weakly in the direction he’d seen him leave. 

“I think..” His hand fluttered back down to his side. “I don’t know.” He saw Sam pace a little, trying to psyche himself up to go confront Dean. He saw actual fear in Sam’s eyes and that made him ache. “Sam, don’t go to him. Leave him alone, please. I don’t w-want him to hurt you.” He coughed again, sucking in a shaky breath. 

“No, I- I have to, this is… Cas.. this is so..” He spared a quick glance over Cas, panting, “I’ll be right back, don’t move, okay? Just.. heal.” Before Cas could get a word in edgewise Sam was gone. For once, he decided to let the brothers speak on their own. He kept his ears tuned to Sam, just in case. 

…………………………………………………………..

“Dean.” It fell into the room as an accusation, a question, in shock and disbelief. 

Dean stood in front of the shattered mirror hanging on the wall above the sink that was stained in pinkish watered down blood. He stared at his own shattered reflection, barely registering Sam’s voice. His shoulders stood heightened at frightening attention, the rest of his body rigid and pulsating with power. The mark hissed against his skin. 

“Dean…” Soft footsteps fell closer. 

“Get out.” It was in no way a request. 

“Dean… I… I c-can’t believe.. that you..” Sam cleared his throat after feeling his voice shake. “C-Cas?” 

Dean plunged his hand into the ragged pieces of glass still hanging on edge in the frame of the mirror. He felt the glass slice his skin and he growled at it, feeling the mark whine and insist he pick up the glass and plunge it into Sammy’s neck. He could practically hear Sam’s frantic flushing of blood throughout his veins, he couldn’t help but imagine the feel of that warm blood against his skin. He cocked his head ever so slightly. 

“Sam….” His bloodlusting pulse begged, whimpering and crying out for his little brother’s blood warm against his face, soft against his tongue. Satin. “I. Said. Get. Out.” Sam took a cautious step forward and Dean’s fist tightened around a shard of glass, poising it for the swift and simple kill. So satisfying. He felt the bloodlust fill him up to his eyes, ferocious violent heated blood pounding for more destruction, more death, more, more, more. “Get out Sam. Now!” He roared, taking a menacing stomp forward. 

“How could you… to Cas?” Sam insisted, carefully, his twinkling eyes begging for a glimmer of human emotion. Of regret. Of anything. A small part of Dean wrenched in pain, screaming that he hadn’t meant to do it, that he would never forgive himself, that he hated himself for every second of Cas’ pain. The mark fought hard against that small voice, trying to extinguish it, but it kept replaying Cas’ declaration with growing intensity. 

‘I love you, Dean.’

He threw his gaze down at the cracked aged wood in the floor, then to the pristine comforter lying atop his bed, to a knife balancing carefully on his shelf. He tore his eyes from one object to the next, trying to silence the arguing from within between the two voices raging inside him. His heart pounded, wondering where Cas was and if he was okay. The mark pulsated, begging for Sam’s eyes to pop out of his skull. Without realizing it, he let out a roar and let himself collapse to the ground, clutching his hands over his throbbing, screaming head. 

Sam rushed forward, immediately wrapping his arms around his brother’s hard shoulders. “Dean, Dean, it’s okay..it’s okay, breathe, please, please breathe.” He soothed a hand against his back, feeling hot tears soak into his flannel and nothing could have been more comforting at that moment. He sighed gratefully, feeling Dean break out of the mark’s spell, feeling his heated sobs penetrate through the bloodlust and return him to his actual self. He couldn’t believe Dean had actually fought it, it was almost too good to be true, so he kept a semi-weary hold on him. 

Dean’s heavy, shaking breaths gave Sam a glimmer of hope that maybe there was an end to this. 

………………………………………………………………………………..  
A difficult week passed, dragged on slowly and painfully. Dean was basically kept on house arrest and Sam never took his eyes off him, weary to even let him leave for bed or to go to the bathroom. He policed him heavily, and for good reason. Sam’s anxiety bubbled inside him like a shaken up soda can, but with no word from Rowena and no hope for a speedy recovery, there was nothing much he could do except play house arrest with his brother the Hulk. 

“I’m going to bed, officer.” Dean grimaced, making himself a whiskey on the rocks and heading off down the hallway. Sam watched him leave with a heavy frown on his face. 

“Okay..” but they both knew Sam would pop in in about an hour or less to make sure. Dean sighed and closed his bedroom door behind himself, setting his drink on his bedside and walking over to the sink. He washed his face, lifting from the water to see his face, only to be reminded of the mirror he’d shattered. He brushed his teeth and plopped into bed, holding his whiskey close to his heart and casting a bored glance at his i-Pod. He popped the headphones in, scrolling to the shuffle button and sipping his whiskey needfully. He closed his eyes and instantly regretted it because the only image he was capable of seeing was Cas’ bloodied, pained face staring back at him. He tried to will the image away, remembering the words that had spilled from the angel’s lips. He wondered if it were just his last strategy at keeping his life, or truthful.. or maybe a clever attempt at keeping Dean pondering on it. He finished his glass of whiskey and slipped further down into his bed, breathing uneven and unsteady breaths. 

He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until he felt a soft tug at his headphone, which made his eyes fly open instantly. He blinked a few times to be sure he was really seeing the same face that’d been haunting him for days, and sure enough it was indeed Castiel staring down at him. He pulled the other headphone out, scooting up in the bed, still fully clothed and lying on top of the sheets, pushing his back up against the hardness of the headboard. 

They stared at each other for what had to be at least a minute in absolute silence, one having no idea what to say to the other. Dean felt his heart pound, so he hardened his expression, keeping his eyes dense and unreadable. Cas had an equally stoic expression on his face. What was Dean supposed to say? ‘Sorry for almost murdering you’ ‘Are we still friends?’ ‘Soo… you said you love me… where do we go from here?’ Cas’ situation wasn’t much better. ‘So, I love you, even though you nearly stabbed me’ ‘Should I take the fact that you tried to murder me as a compliment… or?’ The relentless staring contest continued. It would have been funny if it weren’t their actual lives. 

Cas moved to sit cautiously on the foot of the bed, cocking his head, unwilling to cease the painful eye contact. Dean sucked in a nervous breath, narrowing his eyes further. The silence in the room was heavy and thick like humidity in a Louisiana sauna. Cas’ words bounced around in Dean’s head for the millionth time that day. Cas seemed to get uncomfortable immediately after the thought passed through Dean’s mind. He moved, looking down and starting, 

“I…” He stared at his hands as he knitted his fingers together. Dean’s eyes grazed over his perfectly healed skin, not even a single scratch bearing any evidence of the event ever taking place. It didn’t ease his guilt a single bit. Cas’ eyes passed fearfully over Dean’s then cast back down. “Dean… I…” 

Dean shook his head, meeting Cas’ eyes and clearing his throat gently. “Cas… don’t.” 

Castiel’s eyes flickered with a hint of confusion, “Don’t what?”

“Don’t even... Just… don’t.” Dean’s expression remained hard as a rock. 

Cas opened his mouth to rebuttle, then closed it, softening his gaze. “Dean… I’m…?” He had no idea what he was trying to say or where he was trying to go with these words. There really was nothing left to say. He’d already said everything he’d ever needed to say to Dean. It really was Dean’s turn to do some of the talking. Cas waited semi-patient, semi-panicked. He watched with surprise as Dean reached out a slow, cautious hand. 

Dean kept his eyes with Cas’, making sure that Cas knew exactly where his hand was going and watching to make sure he had Cas’ consent. Cas absolutely allowed it, without even a hint of fear or apprehension. Dean was floored by it. He pulled his hand back rapidly, spitting, “Why? How can you trust me?”

Cas didn’t have any answer to the question except for a soft shrug. His eyes glimmered with absolute trust and confidence in Dean. He felt his sputtering heart pound and falter in his chest at the proximity they were sharing, while every other basic instinct he had told him to get the hell away from this man. He ignored every impulse and instead absolutely accepted Dean’s touch as it made a second attempt, nearing and reaching his hand. Cas caught the touch with gentle fingers, curling his waiting digits around Dean’s rough hand. He watched as something broke in Dean’s eyes. 

“Ca-as..” It came out as a broken whisper, he pulled his hand away from Cas’ in a quick tug. “Cas, what is wrong with you?” 

“I don’t know.” He nearly smiled, eyes gazing endlessly at Dean’s confused face. Anyone with a brain stem could have easily told them the answer. A soft realization fell upon Dean and he fought to accept it, but the voice repeated, insisting, ‘he’s in love with you’. To test this, to disprove this, he leaned forward carefully touching Cas’ stubbled jaw and pulling it forward slowly, meeting his eyes again to watch for any sign of discomfort or disinterest. He was only met with a heavily lidded, loving blue gaze. “You can stop me if you want,” he muttered, closing the centimeter of space between their lips. 

The reaction this action got was an enthusiastic participation pouring from every cell in Cas’ body. The angel lunged at him, gluing his lips to Dean’s, absolutely kissing him back to make up for his initial shock in what he so lovingly remembered as their first kiss. This kiss, unlike the other, seemed to make a little more sense and was less bizarre of an emotional reaction. Dean relaxed in Cas’ arms, that constricted around his neck in a desperate vice grip. He moved his hands softly up Cas’ sides, trying to demonstrate his sorrow and guilt. He tilted his head into Cas’ lips, kissing him hard yet gentle, sucking Cas’ lip and humming against it softly. Cas pulled back to gasp at the sensation, eyes suddenly wide and electrified. 

A tsunami of words burst out of Dean, “Cas, I’m so sorry, you have no idea how bad I feel, I can’t even explain myself, the mark was… no I’m not going to make excuses, Cas you know I never want to hurt you- I’m … I hate myself, I hate everything I’ve ever done to hurt you- you deserve so, so.. I can’t even begin to- I’m-” His eyes grew misty and his lip began to quiver and he hated that, and he hated himself more than any single thing on the entire planet, “Cas- you’re so.. you’re way, way too good for me- I can’t even imagine.. that thing you said, I’m just- I-” 

Cas leaned close and kissed Dean’s cheek affectionately, leaning closer to nuzzle his face into the warmth of his neck, wrapping his arms up around his strong torso. The words sputtered to a halt as Dean melted beneath the overpowering softness of Castiel’s embrace. He shuddered. Cas cooed, kissing at the sensitive, untouched spot below his ear, “I meant what I said, Dean.” 

“But-” Cas tugged back out of the embrace to cut off the words about to come, commanding, 

“Stop.” 

Dean held his face in a hardened, crumpled expression, eyes solid and face lined with concern and caution, disbelief even. Cas took his hand and set it against his chest, meeting Dean’s eyes, holding his hand in place. With that gruff, domineering voice of his he told Dean, like a prayer, like law, “Only you, Dean.” Dean realized the weight of his words, watching as Castiel’s absolute expression faltered and showed a slight blush of shyness, of intimidation; yet the certainty did not dissolve. Dean had no counter-argument, with three words the angel had sealed his fate, he loved Cas and Cas loved him and no one could come between that solid fact, 

heaven and hell combined.


End file.
